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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472259">December 23, Albany, New York</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tethli_00/pseuds/tethli_00'>tethli_00</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Christmas, Forehead Touching, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Late Night Conversations, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Possessive Behavior, Songfic, Suicidal Thoughts, Unhealthy Relationships</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 01:20:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,966</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28472259</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tethli_00/pseuds/tethli_00</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Human!AU where Matthew and Ivan share a late-night walk and conversation during the holiday season.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Canada/Russia (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>December 23, Albany, New York</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is the song that inspired the fic: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TWyePx5bS3I&amp;ab_channel=glassbeach</p><p>I quoted a lot of the lyrics directly in the fic. The song is actually pretty chill and doesn't really have anything to do with the plot but the vibes are cool</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I do not think that is a good idea,” he spoke softly, a hint of concern lacing his words. Unfortunately for him, Matthew had already made his mind up.</p><p>“That doesn’t matter. I don’t have a choice anymore about this.” His voice was quiet, yet firm with resolve. He turned to look at Ivan and said, “Whether you’re coming or not, I have to leave, so please…”</p><p>He left the sentence unfinished, not wanting to admit out loud that he would’ve liked Ivan to come with him. To support him, be there for him, even if he was still going to be manipulative; any of it was preferable to being alone after what had just happened. He just hoped he didn’t look as drained of energy as he felt, but at least the hall light wasn’t on and the light from the other rooms didn’t reach too far, keeping his face mostly hidden. He didn’t know why that thought comforted him.</p><p>They stood like that for a few seconds, each wordlessly pleading the other to give in. Matthew met Ivan’s eyes, an uncharacteristically assertive move for him, and found an equally uncharacteristic conflict surfacing in the Russian’s violet irises. It was gone as soon as he noticed it, enshrouded by his usual unreadable expression; his earlier concern no longer visible.</p><p>However, it seemed that Ivan had finally made a decision and was the first to move, breaking their shared reverie. He stepped aside from the front hall entry, a silent gesture of reluctant acceptance with Matthew’s idea. The Canadian exhaled as he moved towards the coat rack next to the front door, realizing he hadn’t taken any breath at all for quite a while. </p><p>Matthew’s confusion was only amplified when Ivan walked with him, and grabbed a black jacket to slip over broad shoulders. He was questioning the other's intentions, but put on his own polyester coat instead of continuing to stay still. Together, with the muffled sound of music playing from the living room, the pair prepared to leave the Christmas party.</p><p>Ivan opened the door with the garland wreath, allowing Matthew to brush past his bulky frame and onto the concrete porch. It was cute, with an outdoor chair and stone bird statuettes, but his attention was more preoccupied with the frigid chill of the late December wind that cut into him almost immediately. Snowflakes drifted in the air, most of them obscured in darkness.</p><p>The sound of Ivan pulling the door shut felt like a sort of finality to his decision, in addition to the sudden loss of warmth from the house. Matthew was definitely glad someone was with him; he didn’t think he could have braved the cold alone.</p><p>They shuffled away from the house and down the few, short steps, their shoes making imprints in freshly fallen snow. At the end of the driveway, both turned around to look back at the tiny, brick house nestled between many others like it. The windows emitted a soft light, and strings of red and green light bulbs framed the shutters. Matthew couldn’t bear to look at it any longer.</p><p>He walked away briskly, not checking if Ivan was with him. He didn’t worry for long, as the familiar sound of heavy footsteps crushing snow followed him quickly, then settled in a more natural pace as they found their way next to him. He still wouldn’t look over at Ivan, regardless that he wouldn’t be able to see him in the dark anyways.</p><p>The snow stung Matthew's cheeks, but the cool air was exactly what he had wanted. He didn’t know if he could say the same for his companion, though, who tucked his scarf over his mouth. They walked down the middle of the narrow road, in between cars parked on the sides of the curb and various Christmas-themed lights and illuminated décor. If Matthew was being as observant as he naturally was, he might have found some small comfort in the pretty nativity scenes and wire deer.</p><p>Instead, he looked at his feet the whole time, and the asphalt that looked back at him offered no sympathy. It was at least another five minutes of aimless wandering until Ivan spoke.</p><p>“Do you know where we’re going?” His voice was a bit muffled, hidden behind the scarf.</p><p>Silence. He turned his head and pulled the fabric down and around his neck, in case Matthew couldn’t hear him. When he asked again, Matthew continued to ignore him, making it obvious that he had no real answer.</p><p>“You really didn’t think this out, did you,” Ivan stated. Although the comment itself was a bit judgmental, there was no offense in his tone or intentions. Only something that made Matthew mildly uncomfortable, like pity.</p><p>The snow relented a small amount, just enough to encourage Matthew to keep going. “I didn’t drive here,” he said, voice almost inaudible due to its natural lack of volume, and that it was aimed towards the ground. Ivan heard it anyways, even over the white noise of the wind, trees, and crunching of snow underfoot.</p><p>“How did you get here, then?” It seemed Ivan was going to be persistent about having a conversation.</p><p>“A sled pulled by huskies. Alfred drove me, what did you think?”</p><p>A small smile pulled at the corner of Ivan’s lips, who felt relieved that Matthew was at least making an attempt at humor, even if it was emotionless sarcasm. Not a good sign for someone who was usually caring and emotive, but it was a start.</p><p>“Any reason in particular you came?” Ivan asked, pushing his hands deeper into his pockets and re-burying his nose in his scarf. Matthew’s arms were wrapped around himself and under his arms defensively, even though he didn’t need to be so tense to stave off the chill. He appeared to ponder Ivan’s question for a moment, although that was just to humor him, before responding.</p><p>“I figured it would be fun. Traveling ’s nice, even though I really miss Ottawa sometimes. But, I mean, it’s Alfred, so I thought I should go see him because...y’know, it’s the season and all that.”</p><p>Ivan nodded thoughtfully, even if he didn’t fully understand the other's logic. It was common knowledge in their circle of friends that Matthew didn’t have the best relationship with Alfred, even though they called each other best friends. The American wasn’t cruel or anything like that, as far as Ivan knew, he just simply overlooked Matthew most of the time, like he was invisible or something. Although the holidays were celebrated differently in the west than in Russia, Ivan hardly thought that Matthew should feel obligated to be with people who didn't respect him just because it was Christmas.</p><p>“Alfred's also been wanting me to meet his friends from work, and he’s always been telling me about his life over the phone since I moved away. He insisted this would be the perfect opportunity to hang out again,” Matthew continued, looking to his left and right at the houses they passed. Ivan was listening, but also diverted a larger portion of his attention to the way the colored lights reflected off of Matthew’s glasses and cheeks as they passed a very vivid, bright house.</p><p>“At least he wanted to see you. I was invited out of politeness more than anything, not that I care,” Ivan said, shrugging it off, along with the snowflakes that had collected on his shoulders and head. “I was not expecting it; to be invited all the way from St. Petersburg to here.”</p><p>“Why’d you come?” Matthew asked out of curiosity, as he wasn’t expecting Ivan to show up anyways. He thought that when they’d all graduated college, and Ivan headed back to his home, that that would be the last he ever saw of him.</p><p>Ivan didn’t respond at first. It was a few seconds before he said, “To see certain people again.” The vagueness of the statement annoyed Matthew, but not enough for him to actually care and press the matter.</p><p>They had eventually made it out of the suburbs and its rows of cookie-cutter, condensed homes until they reached the end of the residential road and came upon the start of a small, two-lane highway. Ivan paused at the corner of the final house, and let his eyes follow Matthew as the man walked steadily past him. He seemed every bit as intent on leaving the neighborhood as he had been when leaving the house, as if there was something about the entire area that bothered him. He could’ve waited some more, or could have grabbed Matthew’s wrist to stop him, but he did none of these things; instead, he felt innately compelled to follow the other, through blizzards or streets or hell itself. This was important to Matthew, he could just feel it.</p><p>Together, the two of them walked in the frost-covered grass next to the road, with Matthew on the side furthest from the traffic. Well, from what little traffic there was; when he asked Ivan for the time, he learned that it was half past midnight. He refused to use his own phone, which he kept on silent and powered off.</p><p>“How did things go?” Ivan asked in the absence of sound after a car drove by. Matthew tilted his head, not understanding, so Ivan clarified, “With Alfred.”</p><p>The shorter of the two seemed to blanch at the question, but luckily for him Ivan didn’t notice in the shallow light of sparsely spaced light poles. It was a topic he was hoping to avoid, and he didn’t think he could get away with ignoring any more questions, so he forced himself to find a way to answer it.</p><p>“Eh. He was just being Alfred, y’know?” Ivan did not know, but continued to listen. “He introduced me to some of his buddies in his economics field. It was fun, for a while.”</p><p>Matthew’s silence that followed was not the comfortable kind; it was apparent he was leaving something unsaid. “Is that so?” Ivan asked casually, although he was trying to coerce the Canadian into elaborating.</p><p>“...sure, for a while. It wasn’t as fun, though, when they started ignoring me. Treating me like I didn’t exist.” Whatever Matthew was feeling as he left the party was back, making him inexpressive again. The taller of the two could see apathy in his features through the bursts of light across his face from the headlights of passing cars. For some reason, Ivan felt the sudden urge to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Matthew’s ear, but kept himself from doing so.</p><p>“I’m making friends who don’t know who I am. Am I that unnoticeable?” Matthew asked hesitantly. When Ivan didn’t answer, he felt a pang of self-consciousness. “Ivan?”</p><p>Ivan was just trying to think of a way to put his emotions into words. “Nyet, Matvey. You’re not. You’re not,” he reassured him, using a firmness that conveyed how much he truly believed it. Because he really did, and although Matthew did not know it, it hurt Ivan almost just as much when others could ignore him so easily. </p><p>Matthew would have loved to find comfort in the other’s words. He would have loved to believe him. But it didn’t work like that, did it? Just using words. Even though he appreciated the sentiment at the moment, he could not stop himself from recalling times when the Russian had refused to acknowledge him, just like everyone else.</p><p>He did not say anything. He just kept walking, trying his best to ignore Ivan’s sudden proximity to him.</p><p>The road eventually curved, and rounded a corner of tall trees on top of a hill. Here, the duo could look down on the downtown city district. It was far more urban compared to the previous suburbia, yet it was still small enough to be charming by New York standards. They began the winding descent of the downhill as they followed the road into the main street. </p><p>It was brighter there, at that beginning part where there were mostly newly-built, compact apartment complexes. Instead of tall light poles, there were smaller street lamps decorated with ribbons, which emitted a cool, blue light; or perhaps that was just the reflection of the snow, which laid fluffily on top of the ridges of roofs, and in between the tiles of the sidewalk. Overall, the blur of lights, snow, and night visibility gave the streets a foggy appearance.</p><p>Matthew looked up, enjoying the aesthetics of being surrounded by tall buildings on all sides when he had previously been walking along the isolated stretch of fields and pine forest that separated here and Alfred’s neighborhood. As he gazed upwards, he noticed that it was snowing significantly less, to the point where he could even see some stars through the stray electricity wires that connected to poles and old satellite dishes.</p><p>Both of them enjoyed this atmosphere much more than the neighborhood or the road. Here, it was quiet yet not overbearing, bright enough to where they could see each other easily, and far away from the people they knew, which was important to Matthew. It was comfortable enough for conversation to begin again, with Ivan asking about Matthew’s personal life in a cautious yet non-pressuring manner.</p><p>“I finally got a decent job. Right out of college too,” Matthew explained as they walked down a very steep stretch of sidewalk.</p><p>“Wait, let me guess,” Ivan said, holding up a hand before Matthew could continue. “Hockey. I am right, da?”</p><p>Matthew puffed out his cheeks indignantly, saying, “Come on. I know I’m Canadian, but we don’t all like hockey.”</p><p>“So what is it?” Ivan asked, turning his head in slow circles to take in the scenery. When the other didn’t respond, he directed his view back to him. “What?” Matthew seemed reluctant to answer. </p><p>“...yeah, it’s hockey.”</p><p>Ivan grinned childishly. “I knew it. In college, it was kind of cute, how obsessed you were with it.” Matthew felt warmth flood his neck and hands, but other than that didn’t react to Ivan’s comment at all. “So? What team?”</p><p>Matthew kept talking, his heart having become less heavy since they made their way into the city. “The Senators contacted me with an offer while I was in my senior year, a couple months before I graduated. They said they were impressed with my performance on the college team,” Matthew said proudly, an emotion he hadn’t felt in a while. It felt good to finally tell someone in person. “After I signed the contract, I was able to move out of the dorms to get a place I’ll never own.”</p><p>A light breeze ruffled Ivan’s scarf behind his back. “That’s great news. Who else knows?” he asked genuinely, his typical smile having been on his face for a while now.</p><p>“Ah,” Matthew started, but then stopped. He also stopped walking, leaving Ivan to move forward a few steps before looking back. Quietly, he continued, “I haven’t told anyone else yet. I was going to tonight, but…well, I didn’t get around to it.”</p><p>Ivan wanted to ask him why, not only out of his own curiosity, but also because he wanted to know everything about the blonde in general. However, it would seem that it was a sensitive subject for the Canadian, so he thought better of it and waited until the other started walking again.</p><p>They continued strolling side-by-side through the residential district, until eventually the apartments and condominiums faded into strip malls and various shopping outlets. The rougher path evened out into level concrete, and there were more people here, walking around to do what was probably last-minute Christmas shopping. Matthew felt more at ease in crowds, almost less lonely, while Ivan was not fond of crowds and chose to stay no less than three feet away from his friend at all times.</p><p>“So, a lot must have happened for you when you graduated,” Ivan remarked idly, while their silhouettes stood out against the light that poured from glass display windows and open doors. “I know a lot happened for me. It was not the finding job that was hard, but instead the getting back to Russia. All the flights, the layovers, and identity and visa checks. You know.”</p><p>Matthew sighed at the mention of it. “Yeah. 2017 was one hell of a year, wasn’t it?” he added, and though he meant for it to be lighthearted, instead it came out as almost melancholy. It was for good reason, too, as that was the year that he and all of his friends had graduated from their international college in New York. Those four years were undoubtedly the best of his life, when he met Alfred, Gilbert, Ludwig, Feliciano, Arthur, Carlos, Yao, Kiku, and even developed a better relationship with his father, Francis. It was just one college, yet it brought all of them together from around the world in a single place. It was amazing.</p><p>Thus, it was all the more heartbreaking when everyone eventually graduated two years ago. Most of them had always planned on going back to their home countries, having only come to America for the opportunities, Ivan included. Even though Matthew was never the most outgoing socially, he still found himself attached to this group of people who he felt he could call friends; when they left one by one, he felt more and more isolated. It became so bad at one point, that he also left, if only to get away from the nostalgic feelings he associated with Albany and college. What better place than Ottawa? Canada wasn’t too far from the U.S., but it was also something new and exciting. By traveling and obtaining a Canadian citizenship, he was able to get out of his temporary depression.</p><p>Of course, no one needed to know about this, least of all Ivan. Unfortunately for him, the taller man had picked up on Matthew’s pensive mood, and looked at him with such sympathy that Matthew felt sick to his stomach. </p><p>Whether it was the spiked eggnog that lingered in his system, or the emotionally unstable state he was in, Matthew didn’t care so much about thinking before he spoke anymore. </p><p>“It’s funny,” he said with no amusement in his voice, “How much I think about that year. How could I ever sleep at night? Although, it’s not like I’m trying to sleep right now anyways.”</p><p>“You could say you felt...you were left paralyzed?”</p><p>Matthew looked up, noting the fog that appeared in front of Ivan’s face as he spoke. “Sorry, what?”</p><p>“Is nothing. Just a song stuck in my head,” he finished, his eyes closed gently. Matthew brought his gaze back down, and missed the way that one of Ivan’s eyes opened to follow his head as it moved forwards again.</p><p>On the main street, soft music could be heard playing somewhere, something jazzy and mellow in order to not disrupt the insomniac crowd that made up the population at two in the morning. Matthew could have swore he heard faint live music, a trumpet maybe, or else he was so tired he was having auditory hallucinations. The city ambiance of pedestrians, music, cars, and stores all merged and faded as Ivan and Matthew walked to the outskirts of whatever city they had wandered to. </p><p>The lights were now only in the distance, and the busy main street they had been at earlier had now narrowed into a much simpler, barren road that curved away from the cluster of buildings and back into sparse fields and forests. About a mile away from the lights and noise, the pair of friends had come upon a decently-sized bridge over a small river.</p><p>It was flat, not arching, and was only fifty feet or so long. An iron railing was on either side, as well as ample space for pedestrians to cross it both ways without getting too close to cars. There were no lamps, and the only source of light was from the city, further away.</p><p>Matthew was the first to approach it, walking a bit ahead of Ivan. When he got to the middle of it, near to where the river was deepest, he paused. Ivan walked up to roughly where he thought the other was, as it was dark enough that he could only see the outline of the other’s body. He could hardly tell, but Matthew leaned his back against the rail and looked up to the night sky. </p><p>The Canadian chuckled gingerly. “I can’t believe I’m really out here, alone, with you of all people.” If there was any offense in the statement, Ivan didn’t take any. Instead, he estimated where Matthew was based on the sound of his voice, and put a hand on the railing next to him.</p><p>“S’ not even the most surprising about tonight, either.”</p><p>Ivan’s eyes narrowed in what little light could reach them from the distance. “Is it?”</p><p>Matthew coughed, his voice scratchy and painful sounding. “Maple. Must’ve drank too much eggnog. What was even in that stuff, anyways?”</p><p>“Vodka,” Ivan replied simply. “I know, because I put it in.”</p><p>Then it made sense how Matthew was able to get inebriated so quickly, since some idiot put a chronic alcoholic in charge of the party drinks. That idiot probably being Alfred, who could never say no to a drinking challenge, or any challenge in general. Because of this erratic train of thought, Matthew tried his best to keep from talking too much, in case he might accidentally say something to piss off the man who was much stronger and more unpredictable than him.</p><p>The alcohol was helpful, yet not enough when it came to erasing Matthew’s memories of what had happened before he left Alfred’s place. The images still stuck with him, like an unnerving imprint in the back of his retinas that revealed itself each time he closed his eyes. He wondered if massaging his temples would make his headache or the thoughts go away, and gave it a shot.</p><p>The flickering lights and glow from the city horizon behind Matthew was enough to illuminate his slumped shoulders and hands covering his face. Ivan briefly entertained the thought of prying those hands off his face and kissing him, but quickly buried such longings beneath layers of concern and worry. His friend’s glasses sat on top of his head, before they were accidentally knocked over and fell on the ground below them. </p><p>Ivan, who was previously occupied with watching Matthew, bent over to pick them up before Matthew noticed he had lost them. The blonde kept his neck bent and face buried for a few more seconds, before he felt his glasses were gone.</p><p>“Um...Ivan? Could I have those back?” he asked, seeing the lenses in Ivan’s hand. The man’s arms were crossed however, the glasses out of Matthew’s reach, and a pair of violet eyes watching him intently.</p><p>“Nyet,” he spoke, his demeanor calmly serious. It was a contrast to how non-confrontational he had been all night, which led Matthew to just look at him blankly, perplexed. “I give back glasses when you tell me why we’re here. Why you left.”</p><p>Matthew’s body went rigid, and his eyelids drooped dejectedly. He looked so tired, as if he suffered from the kind of fatigue someone develops over many years of life. He was far too young to look like that.</p><p>Ivan turned his body to angle towards Matthew, and met his pale, periwinkle eyes. They were void of any emotion, and seemed to ask Ivan not to force them into showing any. He reached a hand to place the lenses onto the bridge of Matthew’s nose delicately, and the flitting light glinting off of them seemed to hide his vulnerability, if just a little bit.</p><p>“Matthew. What happened?”</p><p>Matthew breathed in deeply, and held it. He counted to ten internally, and when he exhaled he let his muscles untense and calm. He flexed his fingers in his pockets in an attempt to keep them from going numb, as well as to steady his nerves. After a few more seconds of collecting himself, he also leaned off of the railing to make eye contact with Ivan.</p><p>Behind Ivan was the expanse of fields and forests, the horizon dark. It was harder to see his outline, but his platinum blonde hair and violet eyes were skilled in catching light and making it shine. He brushed a few flakes of snow out of his hair, before pulling his scarf around his chin. He seemed as ready to listen as ever.</p><p>“Okay. Alright. Now or never, I guess,” Matthew said more to himself than the other. </p><p>He looked over to the city, speaking without any trace of emotion on his face or in his tone. “You know how everyone got pretty pissed, right? I mean, you made the drinks.” Ivan nodded solemnly, waiting for him to continue. “I usually don’t drink, and not much when I do. At least, that’s how it was supposed to go.”</p><p>Matthew’s eyes crinkled in some unnamable feeling, completely averted away from Ivan. “And that’s when Alfred came up to me,” he said, having to strain to keep his voice from wavering. “I was so excited, that he noticed me. That he came up to me. It didn’t matter that he was offering me drinks, even when I said I didn’t want any at first, because it was just so nice to have my best friend back.”</p><p>One of Matthew’s hands wandered from his side to grip the railing. Ivan didn’t step any closer to him, which the Canadian appreciated, but leaned on the railing to mirror the other. “He kept bringing me shots, and even that godawful spiked eggnog,” Matthew said, which he regretted as soon as he said it. He sent the Russian an apologetic look, but it seemed Ivan could care less about that at the moment, and was more absorbed with the current confession. </p><p>Matthew rubbed the nape of his neck, the cold seeming to bother him all of a sudden. “One thing led to another, and...my memory’s kind of foggy by then...but I do remember him leading me to another room after a while.”</p><p>He appeared to retract further into himself as he continued, crossing his arms and leaning on top of the railing, his back curved over to make himself seem as small as possible. His voice was becoming quieter, too, which was problematic for Ivan being able to hear him. He took one careful step closer, fearing Matthew would recoil at the slightest movement. </p><p>“I didn’t think it was strange when he took me to a bedroom,” he whispered. “I guess I wasn’t thinking at all, eh? I was so fucking stupid.” The last part he aimed at himself, as it was simply him voicing his inner thoughts. “I realized it too late when he locked the door and started touching me.”</p><p>His words hung in the air, and he didn’t speak for a while longer. He stretched his arms lazily, trying to get the blood flow back into them. Ivan didn’t move; he just blinked slowly, and offered no insight of his own through words or body language.</p><p>“I told him no, I’m certain of that much. You probably don’t have to imagine what happened next, though.” Matthew’s face formed the first expression since he started talking; a minute, poignant smile. </p><p>That wasn’t the end of it though, because the smile dissipated as soon as he continued. “I-I never thought that he would,” Matthew paused to cough, “That he would do. That.” His voice faltered almost imperceptibly, but even his quietness could not cover it up.</p><p>Ivan stepped forward again, which made Matthew’s eyes dart up. He then spoke for the first time since Matthew had started. “What did you think he would never do?” he asked softly, leaning over so he was eye level with the blonde. Matthew could feel the humidity of his breath on his ear, and shivered. He refused to answer Ivan, which prompted the man to keep going. </p><p>“Did you think Alfred would never rape you?”</p><p>It was whispered almost breathlessly, but simply hearing the words ‘Alfred’ and ‘rape’ in the same sentence caused something in his brain to break and cease all function in order to prevent thinking about it any further. Goosebumps spread over his arms underneath his jacket, but other than that, he was able to keep the reaction mostly internal.</p><p>The following minute was filled with Matthew’s uneven breathing, and Ivan’s unsettling anticipation as he waited for the blonde to make the next move. </p><p>When Matthew finally looked up, raising his head from being buried in his arms, his composure had fallen into something akin to unresponsive exhaustion. He had not cried, but his eyes stung and his cheeks were an unhealthy red despite the cold temperature outside. The rest of his face was far paler than usual.</p><p>“Wanna know what the best part is?” Matthew asked, his voice unusually light. “It’s that I really thought this time was gonna be different. That Alfred was going to be friends with me. That Alfred wasn’t going- wasn’t going to ignore me or use me anymore.” </p><p>He couldn’t bring himself to have the energy to stand upright anymore, nor attempt to look in Ivan’s direction. He gently collapsed onto the edge of the railing without grace, his hair matted and unruly with snow and wind. It appeared he was finished, judging by the way he closed his eyes and relaxed his upper body. If his companion didn’t know any better, he would've guessed that Matthew had fallen asleep.</p><p>Ivan didn’t trust himself to speak. Not when he couldn’t pinpoint his own emotions, much less those of Matthew, who was being unreadable as ever and surprisingly calm given the circumstances. Ivan was far from being able to play therapist; people had described him as ‘childishly cruel’ in the past, and he did not doubt them. If he was psychologically sound, he might have been able to empathize with him. However, more than anything he was just amazed by how Matthew had hidden his emotions up to this point. He stood silently impressed by the boy who - even now - was trying to conceal the cracks in his sanity. It was a commendable effort.</p><p>Matthew watched the water under the bridge flow. The surface of the river was black and glassy, the angles of the shifting surface tension reflecting starlight and artificial light alike. Unconsciously, he leaned over the railing ever so slightly, seeming to be entranced by the current of frigid water that was much faster and deeper than it looked. </p><p>He lifted to his tiptoes. His train of thought was drifting. </p><p>He kept leaning even further, his knees in between the rails, before a pair of muscular arms enveloped him around the waist. They pulled him away from the edge with ease, handling him with such care that Matthew was hardly aware he was being moved at all. </p><p>He turned his head so he could look at Ivan quizzically from the corner of his eye, unsure of what the other was doing or what was happening. He was tempted to ask Ivan why he felt so warm for how cold it was outside, but even in his delirium he was unable to voice such an embarrassing thought out loud.</p><p>Ivan pressed his forehead against Matthew’s, deciding to use sincere physical contact as a way to comfort him, intentionally ignoring that it was not the best method for Matthew’s scenario. When Matthew didn’t pull away, he lifted one hand to card through the Canadian’s stunningly soft hair, brushing the snow out of it.</p><p>“Um, Ivan? What are you doing?”</p><p>Ivan shushed him, like one would with a child. “Don’t do that, Matvey. Don’t scare me.”</p><p>“What are you talking about? I feel like I’m going to-" </p><p>Matthew didn't finish before his chest lurched, and he clamped a hand over his mouth. He had to twist himself to get out of Ivan’s unnecessarily secure embrace, and rushed back over to the railing. Leaning over further this time, his chest bending against the cold metal uncomfortably, he expelled what little food and mostly drink was left in his stomach, courtesy of the unreasonable amount of alcohol he had consumed earlier that night. </p><p>Ivan hurried to his side again, not only to make sure he wouldn't do anything dangerous, but also to try and soothe him with a hand placed cautiously between his shoulder blades. He patted Matthew’s back softly, a kind gesture that the other appreciated, even while coughing violently.</p><p>Matthew gave a small, pathetic smile while he couldn't help but reflect on how perfect his body's timing was. How he managed to keep himself from tipping over the whole night, he’d never know. The only thing that surprised him was that it didn’t happen sooner.</p><p>Matthew swayed as he pushed himself off the rail, colliding into Ivan as he fell backwards. He tried to stand upright on his own, pushing away Ivan’s outstretched arms, but couldn’t find his balance in time to save face; so, swallowing his pride, he accepted Ivan’s forearm with defeat. Ivan pulled Matthew’s arm around his waist, as his friend was not tall enough to reach his shoulders, and put another hand on Matthew’s hip to guide him as he walked.</p><p>The two walked away from the bridge, with Matthew leaning against Ivan enough to make him look like he was limping as he moved. “What a way to end a Friday night,” he mumbled into Ivan’s jacket, his own tiredness making him less conscious of how miserable he must’ve looked. Ivan didn’t respond verbally, but gave him a concerned glance and pulled his arm up around his waist again. </p><p>Now, their roles were reversed; Matthew was left confused as to what they were doing, and Ivan was taking him wordlessly to the town they were at earlier. Adjusting his posture so that his face was angled up towards Ivan’s head, he asked him where they were going.</p><p>“We are going back to my hotel, da?”</p><p>Matthew blinked. “Huh?”</p><p>Ivan didn’t reply. He did not want Matthew spending tonight alone, much less at Alfred’s house if he correctly assumed that was where the other had planned on staying. If he saw the American, he didn’t doubt he would become physically aggressive.</p><p>Ivan thought going to his place was implied, but was actually unaware of how Matthew was more upset that he was being told where to go, without being asked. Still, the Canadian didn’t make any move to leave Ivan’s grasp, bitterly reminded that he didn’t have the strength even if he wanted to. Where else would he go, anyways?</p><p>The trip back to the town and to the subway was cumbersome, yet oddly enjoyable for Ivan. Matthew did not share his optimism, however, having to focus all his energy on not tripping or becoming nauseous again. Everything blurred past him this time around; all the lights and sounds faded together in one bleary, unidentifiable mess. That, or it was because his vision was obscured with half of his face being pressed into the Russian’s side.</p><p>One of the larger buildings with a wide, open entryway ended up being their destination, with Ivan having to awkwardly steer Matthew in the right direction. Despite how difficult it was to get to the ticket kiosk with the two clinging together, Ivan never relented his sturdy grip on the other. Not even when Matthew gained enough self-awareness in the denser crowd to be embarrassed by their position, and stood up with Ivan making things difficult by still pulling the Canadian to his side. </p><p>In the subway car, Matthew was glad to be able to hang on a pole for support, which Ivan begrudgingly allowed him to. The fluorescent light bulbs irritated the blonde, forcing his eyes downwards to the floor that still wasn’t dim enough.</p><p>He asked Ivan for the time, but didn’t get the response he wanted. “Why don’t you use your phone? Is it dead?”</p><p>He chuckled dryly at that, putting Ivan on edge. “No, it’s just powered off. I’ll turn it on.” When the device began to glow again, the first thing that came up was the notification screen. Matthew’s face fell instantly.</p><p>“Is something wrong?” Ivan asked, growing concerned at the sudden change in behavior. He was able to realize, in that moment, that Matthew had most likely kept his phone off to ignore any calls or messages since he left the house, presumably, without telling anyone. Alfred and others had probably tried to message him, no doubt worried.</p><p>“It’s just as I thought,” Matthew said, sounding so much more than just let down, scrolling up and down with his thumb. “Which is why I kept it off for so long, so I wouldn’t have to see this.” When he held up his lock screen to Ivan for inspection, it was completely blank, only the time and date displaying at the top. No one had messaged him, and there were no missed calls.</p><p>Ivan wanted to take Matthew's hand and rub small circles in his palm with a thumb, but didn’t think the other would appreciate such blatant displays of affection in public. Regardless, he still wanted to do something, anything, to console the jaded-looking Matthew.</p><p>“No one noticed me,” he murmured. It was finally setting in.</p><p>“I noticed you.”</p><p>At that, Matthew’s eyes widened and pupils dilated, then relaxed. Despite how genuine the statement sounded, his mind pointed out how Ivan had only done so because Matthew coincidentally ran into him in his haste to get out. Still, he gave his tall friend a reassuring smile anyways.</p><p>The rest of the ride progressed in silence, mainly out of respect for the people that were sleeping, or close to it. Even Matthew was dangerously close to drifting off, the sound of wheels over rails lulling him to unconsciousness. Only the jerking of the train as it stopped occasionally was enough to shake him out of his stupor. </p><p>Ivan placed a hand on his shoulder to make sure he was awake when they reached whatever their stop was. He had no idea if they were traveling for five minutes or an hour, but it was still dark outside, so it couldn’t have been too long. Ivan led him out of the underground station with a relaxed hold on his bicep, and helped him navigate the stairs upwards, even though Matthew was feeling better and it was mostly unnecessary at this point.</p><p>By the time they reached the exit, their journey was almost over, as the station was fortunately right next to the hotel Ivan was staying at. Seeing the faded-neon motel sign gave Matthew a final surge of determination to shake off Ivan’s hold and walk steadily to the building’s sliding doors. </p><p>Ivan walked past the reception desk and to a pair of rusty elevator doors, with Matthew following him, not sure where to go. The hotel hallways were illuminated in a dull amber color, due to the outdated lighting appliances and off-white wallpaper. Ivan took out a card to unlock his room, and pushed the door open as a sign for Matthew to enter before him.</p><p>The room looked much more modern than the rest of the building. The carpet was cleaner, the walls a pale blue, and had a widescreen television atop a cabinet across from a single, roomy bed. The entire wall opposite the entry door was one giant window, covered up by thin curtains.</p><p>In response to the blonde’s stillness, Ivan motioned for him to lay down on the fluffy comforters. Matthew at least had the mental energy to remember to take his shoes off, before slumping into the pillows on his stomach. He closed his eyes, but through his eyelids he could tell that Ivan turned off the bedside lamp. Matthew heard the ruffling sounds of clothing, and guessed it was just the Russian taking his jacket off. Then, quiet sounds and a faint glow flooded his senses again when the tv turned on. </p><p>He rolled onto his back to see the silhouette of Ivan sitting on the edge of the bed, switching between weather channels. He seemed preoccupied enough, and Matthew was too tired to start a conversation, so he shifted to his side towards the window. The gap in the curtain was right where his face was, so he gazed through the glass and into the night sky.</p><p>In his languor, Matthew’s thoughts automatically wandered to his situation. Here he was, in Ivan’s hotel, probably miles away from where he was supposed to be, and no one was looking for him. If it were a normal night, the thought would have depressed him; instead, it just washed over him indifferently. It wasn’t like he could be with Alfred right now, not for a long time. Not when he wasn’t safe there.</p><p>At that reflection, Matthew realized he wasn’t completely safe here, either. Ivan had been there for him, but he doubted it was for entirely selfless reasons. Why did he follow him when he left the house? What did he want? Was he going to use Matthew too? Matthew didn’t think he had anything left to give.</p><p>“Matvey,” Ivan said, standing up and interrupting Matthew’s internal worrying. “I’m going out. I’ll be back soon, okay?”</p><p>Matthew sat up in bed as Ivan walked over to the door, putting on his coat. “Where are you going?”</p><p>Ivan paused momentarily to address him. “To get your things from Alfred’s house. Stay here.”</p><p>“No, I want to come,” he said, feeling his earlier nausea resurface, tearing at his skull. He sluggishly tried to climb off the bed. Unfortunately, he must have looked as bad as he felt, because Ivan came back to his side to gently push him onto the bed once more.</p><p>“Nyet. You are not well, so stay.” The one action was enough to sap Matthew of what little strength he had. When he went limp in his grasp, Ivan turned around to go back to the door. At least, that was what he was going to do, until he felt a weak tug against his neck.</p><p>He turned around to see Matthew’s fingers tangled in the end of his scarf. “Wait, just...don’t go,” Matthew asked, his body shaking just barely as he gathered the courage to admit the next part. “I don’t want to be alone.”</p><p>The Russian stayed put even when Matthew had let go of his scarf for a while. His erratic heart had melted to the point where he felt it would fall out of his chest. The Canadian had asked him so stoically, and with resolution that expertly covered up how vulnerable he was, that Ivan couldn’t help but walk back over to the other and sit next to him.</p><p>All of a sudden, the wheels in Ivan’s head were turning. What if there was a way he could prolong their impromptu excursion? </p><p>“I will stay,” he said, his tone diving deeper than his usual voice. “But only if you promise me something.” Matthew slowly met his determined stare, uncertainty clouding his own features. He didn’t particularly enjoy the change in Ivan’s mood.</p><p>“Come back with me to Russia for week, and I will stay.” </p><p>Matthew heard the words, but failed to process them immediately. What did he mean by coming with him to Russia? Was he being serious? He certainly looked like it.</p><p>“Ivan, I need more time to-”</p><p>“Matvey,” Ivan cut him off. His inflection was pleading, and his eyes looked at Matthew with subdued hope.</p><p>The Canadian looked down at his lap, his voice lifeless again. “Okay.”</p><p>They waited like that for a few more seconds, both unsure of what was acceptable to do next. Ivan moved first, lightly placing his hand on top of Matthew’s, letting the other figure out the meaning of the action on his own. It was only for a few seconds, before he stood up to take his jacket off again. </p><p>Matthew remained still, plagued by the realization of what he had just gotten himself into. Ivan was quite the opposite; he felt strangely enamored by the prospect of Matthew in his home nation. While the time would ideally be dedicated solely to Matthew’s recovery, perhaps Ivan could find a way to fulfill his unrequited crush of six years.</p><p>After a while, Matthew reclined himself on to the bed. He shifted as close as he could to the edge without falling off, and turned on his side so he could look at the lights through the window again. Ivan found the remote and switched the tv off, casting the room into a serene dark. The glow of the city was the only light left to spill onto Matthew. </p><p>How could he have said yes? He stared at the ceiling wide awake, reliving all his worst mistakes. Matthew berated himself internally for how he handled the situation with Ivan, and berated himself for giving in so easily. He wasn’t looking forward to finding out about all the consequences that came with dropping everything and going to another country on a whim. Then again, would anyone really miss him? </p><p>Matthew felt a dip in the mattress as Ivan laid down behind him. The bed was wide enough to where both men had plenty of space to sleep without touching, yet Matthew could sense Ivan was more in the middle than on the edge. </p><p>“We will go to Alfred’s place tomorrow. Together,” Ivan said placidly, his breath causing the nape of Matthew’s neck to tingle. The shorter made a noncommittal hum in reply, hoping it came out as uninterested. </p><p>In reality, Matthew was very conflicted. The more he contemplated the night’s events, the more parallels he drew between Alfred and Ivan. Both were worryingly controlling, with the American making sure of Matthew’s every move during the party, and the Russian unfairly dictating where Matthew went. Although Ivan had been significantly less physical than Alfred, he was still frequently close to Matthew and occasionally touched him when it was unneeded. </p><p>Or was it? Matthew held himself tightly as he came upon another epiphany. Perhaps he didn’t mind it so much when Ivan was right next to him, offering comfort, even if it came with inexcusable side effects; such as the manipulation. But was it worth the support he so desperately needed?</p><p>Matthew really, really didn’t want to be alone. Didn't want to be invisible. If that meant relinquishing control to Ivan, could he do it?</p><p>There was a gentle movement beneath him, stirring him out of his pensive state. The covers were pulled from under him, and laid on top of his shoulders delicately, as if trying not to wake him. Then, a hand tucked the hem of the blanket around his neck and under his chin. It was such an innocent, yet intimate gesture; Matthew didn’t even try to interpret it, and just let himself bask in the idea that maybe Ivan cared about him.</p><p>It began to snow again, the drifting of ice in the wind pulling Matthew away from coherent thoughts. He loved that it was a Friday night, and that there was no need to wake up early tomorrow. He loved how the cold fogged the edge of the windows and obscured the streets. He loved how the Christmas lights seemed to twinkle in the dark. </p><p>Even though he had no idea where in Albany he was; with Ivan next to him, the place felt more like a home.</p>
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